You Can Never Trust a Monster
by ArticulateZ
Summary: Pavi visits Shilo before her debut performance. Very, very, very, VERY dark and incredibly creepy. Oneshot.


**Author's note: This is easily the most disturbing thing I have ever written. "Inspired" by the realization during yet another viewing of the movie that Pavi pervs on Shilo during the opera, on stage, in front of her dad and everyone. CANNOT UNSEE. That, and canon establishes Pavi as a rapist... So, be warned. This is not cute, reformed-Pavi wooing Shilo. Non-con. Not quite a lemon. Oneshot!**

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><p>Shilo looked at herself in the ornate mirror, her arms folded on the vanity as she leaned forward. A new wig, similar to her old one but with stripes of red and white, covered her baldness. It was amazing what GeneCo's tailors could whip up in a few hours. That afternoon, they'd measured her, exclaiming at her thin frame while Amber observed the whole operation.<p>

The show had to go on. People bought tickets, and there was a clamor to see the long-hidden Wallace girl. No one knew she even existed, and now her celebrity was immediate and infectious. She was doe-eyed and lovely; her little, expressive emotions on the blood drenched stage stirred things long forgotten in the human heart. People connected with her.

You can put a price on that, and the Largos needed money. Amber hauled her back to GeneCo and asked, very matter of factly, if the girl could sing. Shilo was very shy, but the composer helped her, and years alone in her room had fostered a sweet quality to her voice that Mag's maturity had made impossible. She could sing. Amber put aside her jealousy and focused on the dough. She needed money to fill her coffers if she was going to stay in the lifestyle to which her father had let her become accustomed.

"You're gonna be a star, little girl," Amber said with a grin. "What do you think of that?"

Shilo marvelled to herself that Amber didn't remember her at all as the girl in the alley.

So, not two days after the events of that opera, and Shilo was fitted into a dress that made her look like an angel. It was made of silver fabric that rippled like water and ended well above her knees. Her arms were covered by airy sleeves cut out at the shoulder, and her neck felt naked without her mother's necklace. She would sing perched on a stool, a song of desolation written originally for Mag. It seemed only appropriate. She shied away from the make-up crew, protesting feebly, and Amber agreed; the audience liked how frail she looked without cosmetics.

A half hour until she was due on stage. People were being shown to their seats; going into the building, she'd been shocked by the size of the crowd. She was famous, and a few nights ago she'd been living in her bedroom, dead to the outside world.

Not much had changed. She was back on her medication; for all Rotti's words, she couldn't just fight through it, and she'd tried. The blood disease was manufactured, but that didn't make it any less real. She'd thrown away the blue poison, washed it down the drain, but her sickness hadn't gone away. She was infected, permanently.

Her head sank into the crook in her arms and she sobbed. When it became apparent that her best efforts wouldn't render any tears, she rested, looked at the wood grain of the vanity.

"Oh, Shilo! You look-a WON-derful!" Pavi's voice crooned. She hadn't heard the door to her dressing room open, but there he was, in opera regalia, one hand on his mirror, his latest and greatest face sagging some.

"What are you doing here?" she asked in alarmed confusion. Pavi sprang forward, his movements like a panther. She stood and faced away from the mirror, fighting to keep her heart from beating out of control. The last thing she needed right now was a fainting spell.

"No need to be unfriendly! I am just saying hello!" He grinned manically.

"Please leave," she said nervously.

He didn't and took a skip closer. "Why don't you like the Pavi? Everyone else does!" His face was awful. The mirror dropped to his side, angled a little. His gaze went from her eyes to her mouth to her dress to her bare legs, then down at the mirror. His grin dropped away and his eyes cut to her. "My, what fancy panties! Should the Pavi rip them off with his teeth?"

For a moment, she didn't understand. When she did, she pulled the hem of her dress down with a shaky hand and knocked her knees together so his mirror couldn't show him anything else. He said "aw!" and tossed the mirror aside, swooping in to press her against the vanity. His arm swept everything - hairbrushes, mannequin heads, a stuffed animal, an orchid, her medicine - to the ground with a clatter, and he picked her up and deposited her on the clean surface. She looked away from him, and he grabbed her chin and forced her to look at him, at where his real face used to be.

"You'll sing for the Pavi!" he promised in a sing-song that would have been funny if he hadn't been so close.

His hands yanked her down from the vanity by the hips to shove her back, grinding against her. She tried to move away, but the pressure in that low place on her body made her gasp, her torso twisting backwards so her head hit the mirror. That... felt different. He smiled at the unexpected sound, stretching the mask horribly.

She tried to form words, tell him to stop, but he had her pinned with his body and darted his face forward to suck hard on her neck, and then she lost all capacity to form words. The feel of his tongue swirling on her skin along with the light scrape of his teeth... she was panting, helpless to stop her throat from making those encouraging sounds, and still she pushed back against his shoulder, managed to tug hard on his hair.

"What's-a that, Shilo?" he said.

"Don't- don't!" she protested, moving her shoulder up against her neck so he couldn't put his tongue and that awful dead mouth on her anymore, she couldn't stand it, she didn't want him to.

He shrugged and conceded, "As you say."

No, instead he picked her up easily, his hands gliding up and down her back. She was too shocked to do anything. He just picked her up like she was a chair or a cat! He threw her down on the couch and pounced. He was bulky and strong, muscular and frustratingly graceful as she tried to kick him off.

While she pummeled at him with her fists, he was giggling and sliding the skirt of her dress up to show her stomach and blue-with-gold-stars underwear. He raised her legs and firmly wrapped them around his waist with a sly grin. She tried to back away, but he only pushed her hard against the back of the couch, and she could feel him press against her through the fabric of his pants.

He sighed happily. "Ah, miss, you are so warm," he murmured.

His hand went between them and rubbed her, eliciting mewls. She bent her head forward, pushing against his neck, threw her head back as one finger crooked up against her. She shuddered.

"Please," she begged, biting her lip. He was staring at her with intent, unflinchingly. She turned her head to get away from that cold, amused stare. He bit at her collarbone to punish her. "Pavi, please don't!"

He licked a line from her clavicle to the rise of her small breasts. He ignored her noises, his eyes wide, excited. He took one of her hands from where it had been clawing at the back of his neck, his fingers squeezing her wrist tight. There was a warning in his eyes, and she whimpered as he twisted her wrist. He could break her bones. Easily.

She stopped pulling away and he drew back, tugging her by the wrist, arranging her just how he wanted her. He brought her hand to the front of his pants, and both their breaths came heavy, his from eagerness, hers from struggling. He started to force her hand down-

Unhappily for the Pavi, Luigi had heard the ruckus and barged in at that moment. "What the fuck is going on?"

His eyes took in the scene and Shilo expected him to start strangling Pavi. Any excuse, right? Pavi had certainly stopped his progress immediately. He knew his fun was over, and he was pouting. Shilo crawled off the couch and crouched behind the table, shaking, watching the violence unfold.

Luigi darted up to Pavi, picked him up by the collar, and screamed, "I'LL FUCKING KILL YOU, BROTHER! I WARNED YOU ABOUT THIS!" He punched his brother twice, hard, breaking the prettyboy's nose. He ripped Pavi's face off, the metal clips flying everywhere, as Pavi cried out "No, my greatest face!" Then he dropped Pavi (threw him violently to the ground, really), turned on Shilo, and grabbed her by the shoulders, dragging her to her feet, shaking her violently. "AND YOU, YOU FUCKWIT! I TOLD YOU TO STAY THE FUCK AWAY FROM HIM, ARE YOU FUCKING DEAF OR JUST STUPID?"

She bawled. "I really did! It's not my fault! Please, it isn't my fault!"

Her monitor was going wild: Blood pressure warning. Medicate immediately. Blood pressure warning. Her pills...!

Something snapped into place in Luigi's mind, and he stopped shaking her, let her go. He looked at her, horrified. He looked ashamed, as if he couldn't believe what he had just done. She had to be a mess. Her wig was askew, and her dress was torn in places. Shredded. Pavi had bitten her more than once, something she hadn't realized was happening until she saw the bruises in the mirror. Shilo was vaguely aware of Pavi not being a presence in the room.

"What did he want?" she asked, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. She knelt to retrieve her pills, shakily unscrewed the cap and took her medicine without water. "What was going to happen?"

Luigi smirked at this. Before leaving her alone again, he said, "Nothing good. I sure wouldn't ask him. It's like I said, Wallace... you can never trust a monster."


End file.
